


Keep the Faith

by Brumeier



Series: Bite Sized Fic 2019 [65]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Captivity, Established Relationship, Having Faith, Human Sacrifice, M/M, Prompt Fill, Rescue, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-26 20:59:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20396065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: LJ Comment Fic for Random AO3 Tag prompt:Stargate Atlantis, Evan Lorne/Any (David Parrish preferred), electricityIn which David is in dire straits, but he has faith that his fellow Lanteans will rescue him.





	Keep the Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Also written for H/C Bingo: Restrained

_Faith is like electricity. You can’t see it, but you can see its light shining on you. _(Antoni Zygmund)

*o*

The moon was full, giant and beautiful in the black velvet of the night sky. It was much closer than the Earth’s moon was, and smaller satellites orbiting around it were just visible with the naked eye. The glittery dusting of stars that was part of the Pegasus galaxy stretched out beside it.

If it was the last sight David ever saw, he wouldn’t be sorry. It was beautiful.

His head was the only part of him he could move. He’d been tied down to the altar stone for so long he’d lost all feeling in his arms and legs, which meant he’d be incapable of mounting his own escape even if the opportunity arose. He suspected it wouldn’t.

David did his best to ignore the numbness in his limbs and the cramping hunger in his belly and the knowledge that he was laying in his own urine. There was nothing he could do about any of those things. So he focused on the unobstructed view that stretched out over his head, and the sounds of night birds and chirping insects, and the rustle of the wind in the nearby trees.

He focused on his faith in his fellow expedition members, who he knew would come for him. Even the easily irritable Dr. McKay, who had nothing but disdain for the Botany department, had gotten a reputation for never leaving a man behind. They would come.

The one person David tried very hard _not_ to think about was Evan. Not because he didn’t also have faith in the Major, which he absolutely did. Blind, unfaltering faith in his character, his sense of duty, and his ability to mount a rescue. But David knew there was a chance rescue would come too late, and he didn’t want Evan to see what might be left of him. What might have been done to him. 

The thought of never seeing Evan again was too much to bear.

David had no idea how long he laid there, ropes cutting off his circulation, before he heard the sound of chanting. The villagers were coming, and the rescue window was rapidly shrinking. His heart started pounding, his ears ringing with it, his breath coming in quick gasps.

Panic. Fear.

_Please hurry_, David thought, his eyes fixed on that big, big moon. _I don’t want them to hurt me_.

The villagers gathered around the altar stone, all of them wearing homespun robes with deep hoods that hid their faces. Some things were universal, like the deep, irrational fear that came just from that one piece of cloth. Even back on Earth, hooded robes were imbued with fear.

“We come to offer sacrifice,” the village chieftain intoned. He was standing near David’s shoulder. “Blood to the earth, to feed our crops and renew our land.”

“It won’t help,” David said, his voice shaky and thin to his own ears. “Killing me won’t bring your crops back.”

He still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten the blame, when all he’d done was try to help them figure out what was going wrong. He’d narrowed it down to a fungus, but more testing was needed before they knew how to treat it. Or even where it came from, since not even the eldest person in the village recalled having a die-off of that magnitude.

“Blood to the earth,” the villagers intoned. “Blood to the earth.”

David cast about frantically in the sky above him, looking for sign of a puddlejumper. _Have faith,_ he reminded himself. _Have faith. They’ll come._

The chieftain produced a long-bladed knife, which glinted dangerously in the moonlight when he held it aloft. “Blood to the earth,” he said.

He brought the knife down and David could feel the pressure of it on his dead arm, though it was a distant sensation at best. And then there was a flash of light, the chieftain dropped to the ground, and the villagers fell immediately silent.

For one long, hysterical moment, David thought maybe he’d done it; a latent superpower, like in the comic books. And then his vision of the moon was blocked by one of those shadowed, hooded faces.

“You don’t have to kill me,” David said imploringly. 

The hood pushed back to reveal Evan’s anxious, pinched face. “You’re not dying today.”

David let out a shuddery, relieved breath. His faith hadn’t been misplaced. He assumed the other members of the rescue team – the light must’ve been from Ronon’s pulse pistol – had been similarly disguised, but he didn’t look around to be sure. He ignored the sounds of scuffling and punches being thrown, and just kept looking at Evan.

“I need to radio Carson,” Dr. McKay said, his face floating into view. “Before we undo the ropes. Look at his hands and feet.”

“It’s okay,” David assured him. “I can’t feel them.”

“Trust me. You’ll want to. And it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.” But Dr. McKay put his hand on David’s shoulder for a moment before he walked away to contact Atlantis.

Considering how many times AR-1 had been held captive, David would defer to Dr. McKay’s experience. But he wouldn’t mind the pain, not really, because it would be the kind that meant he was still alive.

“Just a little longer,” Evan said, his hand on David’s cheek. His touch was like a tiny spark of electricity that traveled beneath David’s skin, warming him against the cool night air.

“It’s okay,” David said again.

“Not yet it isn’t. But soon.”

David nodded, and finally felt able to close his eyes. He was safe. Soon he’d be home, where Evan could fuss over him in private while he recovered from being bound so long. And he _would_ recover.

He had faith in that, too.

**Author's Note:**

> **AN:** While I was pondering this prompt I came upon the Zygmund quote, and suddenly I knew what I wanted to write. Poor David, trying to be brave under terrifying circumstances while having faith that he’d be rescued.


End file.
